Imagine if you were violently electrocuted by lightning hitting your house because you were on your (charging) laptop, manically looking up the B.O.M. (Bureau of Meteorology) to check if there was the possibility of a thunderstorm approaching.
Would that be irony? Or stupidity? Or a dodgy safety switch system?
I do it all the time, even though Scotto yells at me when I do.
The trouble is, where we are in Townsville, North Queensland, we always seem to miss out on the cooling rain and storms. It’s something to do with the bloody topography.
We lust rain here. I’d give away my first born for rain. In fact he’d probably give himself to you if you paid off his HECs debt.
This has been the hottest summer I’ve ever experienced up here in frontier land.
But if there’s one thing I hate, it’s whingey, whiny blog posts, so I won’t tell you about how I can’t even tell anymore if I’m having a hot flush or if the mercury level has burst through the thermometer and seeped into my brain.
I won’t even tell you about the kids in my class who come to me with blue lips and their teeth chattering, begging, “Mrs. Poinker, for the love of Jesus, can you please turn the air-conditioning down?” and how I just reply, “No. Bugger off and bring a jumper to school tomorrow.”
I won’t go into the grim details of how my yoghurt curdles in the short trip to work or how there are mushrooms growing between my toes because of the humidity.
Instead I want to tell you about an idea I’ve had and I need your imput.
I want to be a weather person thingy.
I want to be ‘unaccountable’.
I want to say things like, “Tomorrow there’ll be a 50% chance of storms.”
Can you imagine if I was sitting in a parent teacher interview and I said,
“Your son has a fifty per cent chance of passing but only if the south winds form a trough that provide a cool breeze that intercepts with the upper atmosphere moisture. There’s a chance of his scraping through mathematics but his literacy is light and variable, depending on the tides. He’s a bit foggy in the morning but that should clear at morning tea when he eats his first food for the day when it may become windy. We usually expect unstable and inclement weather after lunch when he’s had his salt and vinegar chips with an iced coffee chaser.”
I do it all the time, even though Scotto yells at me when I do.
The trouble is, where we are in Townsville, North Queensland, we always seem to miss out on the cooling rain and storms. It’s something to do with the bloody topography.
We lust rain here. I’d give away my first born for rain. In fact he’d probably give himself to you if you paid off his HECs debt.
This has been the hottest summer I’ve ever experienced up here in frontier land.
But if there’s one thing I hate, it’s whingey, whiny blog posts, so I won’t tell you about how I can’t even tell anymore if I’m having a hot flush or if the mercury level has burst through the thermometer and seeped into my brain.
I won’t even tell you about the kids in my class who come to me with blue lips and their teeth chattering, begging, “Mrs. Poinker, for the love of Jesus, can you please turn the air-conditioning down?” and how I just reply, “No. Bugger off and bring a jumper to school tomorrow.”
I won’t go into the grim details of how my yoghurt curdles in the short trip to work or how there are mushrooms growing between my toes because of the humidity.
Instead I want to tell you about an idea I’ve had and I need your imput.
I want to be a weather person thingy.
I want to be ‘unaccountable’.
I want to say things like, “Tomorrow there’ll be a 50% chance of storms.”
Can you imagine if I was sitting in a parent teacher interview and I said,
“Your son has a fifty per cent chance of passing but only if the south winds form a trough that provide a cool breeze that intercepts with the upper atmosphere moisture. There’s a chance of his scraping through mathematics but his literacy is light and variable, depending on the tides. He’s a bit foggy in the morning but that should clear at morning tea when he eats his first food for the day when it may become windy. We usually expect unstable and inclement weather after lunch when he’s had his salt and vinegar chips with an iced coffee chaser.”
